From now on youll only see your grandson on holidays, the daughterinlaw says at the first family dinner.
Eleanor Parker, enough already with the salt! Youll ruin the stew!
Neighbour Zoe stands by the cooker, watching nervously as Eleanor reaches for the salt shaker for the third time over the pot of beef and vegetable stew.
Come on, Zoe, Im sure theres still room for more, Eleanor insists.
Youre not feeling anything today! Youre jittery! Let me try it, Zoe says.
Eleanor steps back from the stove and wipes her hands on her apron. Zoe is right. Her hands tremble, her thoughts jumble, everything slips through her fingers. How can she stay calm on such an important day?
Her son Andrew is finally bringing his wife home, to meet his mother. They married quietly a month ago at the registry office, no ceremony, just paperwork. Eleanor was hurt then the only child, and she didnt even attend the registration. Andrew explained that Lily, his wife, preferred a lowkey affair, no big gatherings.
Listen, Ellie, Zoe tastes the stew. Its fine, even delicious. Now go change, brush your hair. The guests will be here soon.
Oh, Zoe, what if she doesnt like me? What if I make a bad impression?
Dont worry! Youre a wonderful motherinlaw. You stay out of their business, you live your own life. Whats the fuss?
Eleanor nods and heads to the bedroom. Zoe stays in the kitchen finishing the salads. Its a relief that her neighbours helping; Eleanor could never manage alone.
In the bedroom she stops before the mirror. Sixtytwo, silver hair, lines around her eyes a typical older English lady. Andrew arrived late in life, a child at thirtyfive, after a long wait. Her husband died ten years ago and shes been living alone in a modest twobed flat on the edge of town.
Andrew grew up straight, earned a degree, became a software developer, makes a decent salary. He rents a flat in the city centre, visits his mother once a week, brings groceries, fixes anything that breaks.
Then he met Lily. He speaks about her with enthusiasm beautiful, intelligent, a solicitor. He shows a photo on his phone. She is tall, slim, dark hair, bright makeup, though her eyes seem cold.
Eleanor puts on her best dress dark navy with a white collar does her hair, even applies a touch of lipstick. She looks at herself critically, decides she looks respectable.
The doorbell rings at six oclock sharp. Eleanor wipes her sweaty palms on her dress and goes to answer.
Andrew stands in the doorway with Lily. Lily looks even more striking than in the photo, wearing an expensive coat, high heels, immaculate nails.
Hi, Mum, Andrew says, hugging his mother. This is Lily.
Hello, Lily extends her hand. The handshake is cool and formal.
Welcome, welcome! Come in!
Eleanor bustles, helps remove Lilys coat, offers slippers. Lily scans the flat as if evaluating it, her gaze drifting over the worn furniture, the threadbare carpet, the faded curtains.
What a cosy flat, she says with a faint smile.
Thanks, love. Its modest but clean. Please, have a seat.
In the kitchen Zoe is already setting the table. She greets the visitors with a bright smile.
Good afternoon! Im Zoe, the neighbour.
Hello, Lily replies curtly.
They sit. Eleanor ladles out the stew, offers salads. Andrew eats heartily, praising the food.
Mom, its as good as ever! Ive missed your stew!
Eat up, love.
Lily picks at her salad, taking small bites.
Are you watching your figure? Zoe asks. Its important at your age.
I just avoid fatty and fried foods, Lily answers. Im looking after my health.
Eleanor feels a sting. Is her cooking too rich? Shes always cooked this way, and Andrew loves it.
Mum, hows Aunt Vera? Is she better? Andrew changes the subject.
Shes improving. I visited her last week with some treats.
A brief, uneasy silence falls. Lily puts down her fork and looks at Eleanor.
Eleanor Parker, Andrew mentioned youre retired. What do you keep busy with?
Just the usual housework, regular visits to the GP, my blood pressure spikes now and then, chatting with the neighbours. I go to the theatre when I can afford it.
Do you plan on looking after the grandchildren?
Eleanor shivers. Grandchildren! Shes always dreamed of them.
Of course! Id love to!
Lily smiles. Because Im pregnant. Four months along.
Eleanor gasps. Zoe beams. Andrew looks embarrassed.
Andy! Dear, why didnt you tell us right away?
I wanted Lily to be the one to say it.
Congratulations! Eleanor leaps up, hugging her son, then Lily. Lily accepts the hug coldly, barely responding.
Thank you. Were happy.
The dinner continues. Eleanor is on cloud nine. A grandchild or perhaps a granddaughter at last!
Ill help you! Ill come over, look after the baby, cook for you! You both work, itll be hard for you!
Lily sips water, then looks at her motherinlaw.
Eleanor, weve been meaning to discuss our guidelines.
What guidelines?
Ive read a lot of modern parenting literature. Andrew and I have decided to raise our child according to a specific system.
Thats fine, of course, Eleanor nods. Im not against it. Youre young, you know best.
So we ask you not to interfere with the upbringing. No advice, no oldfashioned methods.
Eleanor feels a chill inside.
I wasnt planning to interfere. I just wanted to help.
Help can take many forms, Lily says, wiping her lips with a napkin. Well accept any financial assistance, but well handle the parenting ourselves.
Lily, cant you be a bit less rigid? Andrew interjects. Mum just wants the best.
We discussed this, Andrew, Lily says sharply at her husband. Remember?
I remember, but
No buts. Its settled.
Zoe sits quietly, her fists clenched. Eleanor sees the tension rise. She feels a lump in her throat.
Lily, I understand you have your views, but Im a grandmother! How can I not be involved in my grandchilds life?
You will be involved, Lily replies coldly. Youll see the child only on holidays birthdays, New Years. Thats enough.
Eleanor stiffens. Only on holidays? Just a few times a year?
This is unfair! she protests.
Its reasonable, Lily cuts in. I dont want to hurt you, but youre an elderly woman with old ideas. Youd dote on the child, overfeed, swaddle him in dozens of blankets, frighten him with scary stories. I wont allow that.
Never I would never
All grandmothers say that, then do it their own way. Its simpler to set boundaries now.
Andrew lowers his head. Eleanor looks at him pleadingly.
Andy, tell her Ill be a good granny!
Mum, he lifts his eyes. We thought a lot about this. It seemed best for everyone.
Eleanor cant believe her ears. Her own son, whom she raised, agrees?
Youre serious? she whispers.
Mum, please dont be upset. Were not banning visits entirely, just not every day.
Not every day, she repeats. What about help? You both work. Who will look after the baby?
Well hire a nanny, Lily says. We have the money.
A nanny, not me! Im family!
Thats why shes not family, Lily says. We can fire a hired help if needed, but relatives tend to interfere.
Zoe cant stand it any longer.
This is unacceptable! Eleanor Parker is a wonderful person! Shes been waiting for grandchildren!
This is a family matter, Zoe. Please leave us alone.
Im not meddling, Im just
Interfering. Please, leave the table.
Zoes face turns pink. She grabs her bag.
Ellie, Ill be at my place. Come if you want.
When Zoe leaves, a heavy silence hangs. Eleanor sits, hands clenched on her knees, tears welling but not falling.
Ive waited my whole life for grandchildren, she says quietly. Dreamed of strolling with a pram, reading bedtime stories, baking pies.
Lily sighs. I understand your feelings, but I need a calm environment for a healthy child, without extra people.
So Im extra?
Youre a grandmother, but from a distance.
Eleanor rises from the table.
Leave.
What? Lily asks, eyebrows raised.
I said leave. From my house. Now.
Mum! Andrew lunges. What are you doing?
I dont want to see either of you. Get out.
Please, dont
Get out, I said!
Lily picks up her purse.
Fine. Lets go, Andrew.
Andrew hesitates, then follows Lily out the door. The house falls quiet. Eleanor collapses into a chair and sobs, wailing like a child, pouring out all the hurt and disappointment.
Zoe returns half an hour later, finding her friend surrounded by untouched dishes.
Ellie, love, whats happened?
How could he agree to this?
I dont know, maybe Mom convinced him.
But hes his son! His child! How can a grandmother be shut out?
Zoe hugs her, patting her shoulder.
It happens, Ellie. Many daughtersinlaw think the motherinlaw is an enemy.
But I did nothing wrong! I hadnt even met Lily before today!
Its not your fault. She just assumes youll interfere.
Eleanor weeps for a long time. Zoe cleans up, washes the dishes, brews tea. They sit in silence, sipping.
What now? Eleanor asks.
Keep living. What else?
How can I live when my son turned his back on me?
He didnt turn his back; his wife persuaded him. Maybe hell see sense later.
And if not?
Zoe shrugs, no answer.
A week passes. Andrew doesnt call. Eleanor doesnt call either; pride holds her back. She drifts through the flat like a ghost, eats little, sleeps little, thinking only of the grandchild shell see only on holidays, of the son who chose his wife over her.
Zoe visits daily, urging her to eat, to chat, but Eleanor barely hears.
Then a call from old school friend Nina, who lives on the other side of town.
Ellie, I heard youve got a son married!
Yes, married.
Hows the daughterinlaw?
Bad.
Eleanor pours out everything. Nina listens, gasps.
What a witch! Sorry, but thats the truth!
What should I do?
Do nothing. Pull back. Show you dont care. Those women love it when you disappear. Theyll think youre begging.
But I dont care!
Pretend youre indifferent. Youll see, theyll eventually beg for you.
Eleanor ponders.
A month later, she truly stays silent. No calls to Andrew, no messages. She goes about her life, or pretends to. She visits the GP, the shop, Zoes house, but an emptiness remains.
One evening the doorbell rings. Andrew stands there.
Hi, Mum.
Hi.
Can I come in?
Come in.
They sit at the kitchen table. Andrew looks tired, older.
Im sorry for that night. Lily was harsh. I shouldnt have let it happen.
But you let it happen.
I know. Im ashamed.
Eleanor watches him, waiting.
Mum, I know youre hurt. Lily really believes this is best for the baby.
What do you think?
Andrew lowers his eyes.
I dont know, honestly. Part of me loves you, part of me wants to support Lily, the mother of my child. Im torn.
Even if shes wrong?
Even if.
Eleanor nods, understanding his choice is not in her favour.
Alright, Andrew. Do as you wish. I wont interfere.
Dont say that. Were not banning visits!
Only on holidays. I remember.
Okay
Andrew, go. I have nothing else to say.
But Mum
Leave, I said.
Andrew gets up and leaves. Eleanor is alone again.
Two more months pass, winter arrives. Eleanor decorates for New Years, buying a tree, hanging ornaments, hoping Andrew might invite her.
On 31 December she rings in the new year with Zoe, spreading a table, watching the fireworks on TV, sipping champagne.
Heres to a better year, Ellie, Zoe says.
Cheers, Zoe, Eleanor replies, though she doesnt truly believe it.
In February Lily gives birth to a boy, Max. Andrew texts a picture. The baby is cute, dark hair.
Eleanor looks at the photo and cries a grandson shell barely see.
A week later Andrew calls.
Mom, Id like you to come over, meet Max.
When?
Sunday, if that works.
It works.
On Sunday she packs a bag with presents onesies, blankets, toys puts on her best dress.
Andrew arrives in his car, they drive in silence. Eleanor worries Lily will push her away again.
Lily meets them calmly, even smiles.
Hello, Eleanor Parker, Lily says. Please, come in.
Hello, dear.
The flat is spacious, threeroom, modern décor. In the nursery a cradle holds sleeping Max.
Eleanor steps closer, her heart tightens with love and tenderness. Hes tiny, helpless.
May I hold him? she whispers.
Better not, Lily says. Hes asleep. If you wake him well both be exhausted.
Ill be gentle
Please, dont.
Eleanor steps back, accepting that he must stay asleep.
They sit in the living room, tea between them. Lily talks about the birth, the first days. Eleanor listens eagerly, noting every detail.
Are you breastfeeding? she asks.
Were using formula. I dont want to lose my shape, Lily answers.
Eleanor says nothing, remembering Lilys rule against advice.
Max wakes and cries. Lily brings him into the sitting room. Eleanor reaches out.
May I hold him?
Just a minute, Lily hands the baby to her.
Eleanor cradles Max, feeling his warmth, the scent of milk and childhood. Tears rise.
What a beautiful little thing, she murmurs.
Enough, give him back, Lily says after a minute. He needs to eat.
Reluctantly, Eleanor hands him back.
Later, Andrew drives her home.
How was he? he asks. Did you like Max?
Very much, she replies, smiling sadly.
Mum, I know this is hard. Lily has the right to decide how to raise him.
I understand.
Well try to invite you more often. Not often, but well try.
Thank you, Eleanor says, a bittersweet smile on her face.
Back home she sits by the window, looking into the dark. The grandson exists, yet feels distant. She held him for a moment, and thats it.
Zoe drops by that evening.
How was the baby?
Beautiful.
Hows the daughterinlaw?
Cold.
Bless you, Ellie.
They sit in silence.
You know, Zoe, maybe I should step back entirely. Stop pushing, stop asking?
Probably wise. Keep your dignity.
But the grandchild?
Hell grow up and come to you. Children feel who loves them.
Eleanor wants to believe.
Six months later Max is eight months old. Eleanor sees him three times birthdays, christenings, occasional visits. Each visit is a trial. Lily controls every action. No unsupervised cuddles, no extra food, no loud laughter.
One day Andrew calls.
Mom, we have a problem. The nanny is ill. Could you look after Max tomorrow for three hours?
Eleanor cant believe her ears.
Of course! Ill be there.
Great. Well bring him in the morning.
She spends the night restless, excited for three hours alone with Max, without Lily.
In the morning Andrew arrives with Max in a cozy onesie, a pacifier in his mouth.
Heres a schedule, Andrew hands her a sheet. Feeding times, nap times, approved games. Everything must be followed.
Alright, Andy.
Please, no deviations. Lily monitors everything.
Its fine.
When Andrew leaves, Eleanor picks up Max. He looks at her with big eyes and smiles.
Hello, my sunshine, she says, pressing him to her chest. Ive waited for this.
They spend three hours together. She feeds him according to the sheet, plays the allowed games, reads the prescribed stories. Max is calm, laughing occasionally.
When Andrew returns, he looks relieved.
How did it go?
Wonderful. Hes a good boy.
Can we ask you again?
Absolutely, I love this.
From then on Eleanor is asked to watch Max whenever the nanny is unavailable, roughly every two weeks.
Max turns one. At his birthday, many guests gather, but Eleanor sits at the far end of the table, away from the birthday boy.
Lily approaches with a bowl of salad.
More salad, Eleanor?
No, thank you.
As the candles flickered and the last guests drifted away, Eleanor finally whispered a quiet thankyou to the empty room, feeling at last that love, even if distant, had found its way back into her life.
